There's always Kindness in a Heart
by dark-penguins
Summary: Told from Marik Ishtar's point of view, and it's Christmas Eve. A very sweet story thats moral is that no one is who they seem to be.


As I walk slowly down the snow frosted path of Domino City Park, I think about the season of giving who's greatest day will come to the planet earth tomorrow. Christmas day. Yes, today was Chistmas eve, the day BEFORE all that gift giving and friendship. As you should know, I have no friends and I could careless about my family. I abhor them to their soul. They are nothing to me. As for friends, I have none, only alliances. Friends get you nowhere but down. Down to the dismal fog of betrayal and then down to the firey hell of feeling 'lonely'.  
  
Suddenly I feel something soft and wet hit my back. The extreme cold(compared to the heat I know) of it made me shiver horribly. When I turned to see what it was, a scowl forms on my face. Stupid idiot kids. They laugh and giggle cheerfully then disperse back to their strategically placed hide outs and wait for their next victim. Before tightening the scarf around my neck and pulling the light jacket closer around me, I shiver again and start walking back up the slippery path of ice.  
  
The sun was starting to set and the wind started to blow stronger. I took cover in a mall, just to wait for the storm to slow down. There were many last minute shoppers running from one store to the next, a blur of their own shadows. This season had lost it's meaning, I know. I've read many a time that Christmas was the season of love, kindness, joy, and friendship. Most importantly, these days were suppose to simulate sympathy and the hopes of a new beginning. As far as I could see, no one in this mall could care less about these values. I was one of them. yet, I don't think I would have know that right then my whole out look on this Holiday season would flip flop to be the exact opposite.  
  
"Watch it Blondie!", says some woman carring more boxes and bags than she mortally could, "Your going to-" This resulted with me falling backwards and her dropping her gifts, "YOU STUPID IDIOT!!"  
  
I looked at her casually and shruged, riseing to my feet, "Well, " I began, "If you hadn't been carring so much of that crap then maybe you wouldn't have dropped it. If you are expecting me to apologize, you have got another thing coming."  
  
"Well, I never!" The woman wearily gathered her bags and stomped off, a gloomy look in her eyes. Little had I known that this particual woman's son had committed a suicide the week before. If I had known that, I guess I may have been a bit more friendly. But know one can know. No one can ever know.  
  
For lack of nothing better to do, I walked into the nearest shop, which seemed to be a book store. I walked up the aisles of shelves examining the books carefully. Taking one from it's shelf tenderly, I open the pages and flip through it. I was about Egypt, my home. The pictures brought back so many horrible memories that I had to throw the book away from myself. The manager of the building saw me do this and walks from his cash register. With much sympathy, I look at the shopkeepers Charcoal black eyes. He game me an encouraging smile, his cheeks rosy and his white beard puffed out.  
  
"Why did you throw that book, sir?" He asked me. The man with charcoal eyes and red cheeks talked to me like I was a gentleman. That was something no one had ever done before. His voice was soothing and kind. Full of love and compassion.  
  
"..." I didn't answer him, I didn't know what to say. Then suddenly I look at him, "What does it matter to you, you old gramps?" I had quite bitter tone to my voice.  
  
"It matters not, I was just wondering. It is okay with me if you don't want for me to know."  
  
"I, uh, look, I used to live in Egypt, and I don't like the memories that book brings to me."  
  
"Would you like a different book, sir? They are Half price off, though most of my clearance books are gone."  
  
"Sorry," I said, quietly, "I don't want a book, and I don't have the money to buy one."  
  
He nodded, "That's quite alright, lad. You can take one of the books for free."  
  
In pure astonishment I blink, very confused by this, "But I can't take your books!"  
  
"It's okay, go ahead."  
  
Just to make the old man happy, I walk to the clearance shelf and take out a random book, "I will take this one." The title read, 'The Night Before Christmas'  
  
"Hai, That's a classic, that is. You will enjoy it, my friend."  
  
"Uhm, thank you, sir..." I nod and exit the store, leaveing the tall man with charcoal eyes, rosy cheeks, and the white beard, standing there, happily.  
  
As I explore more of this mall, I open the book and sit on the fountain, reading it, "Twas the Night Before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." I look up and am starled when I see three children in front of me, listening, "What do you want, go to your parents, brats."  
  
"Our parents are dead," said a little girl no more than the age of five. "We live in this mall and on the streets." said the boy next to the girl. He was older with firery red hair and brown eyes. "We just want'd to he'r you wead, Mr. Sandi Cwause." This came from the youngest boy, younger even than the little girl. "I'm not Santa Clause, now go away." "But" "GO AWAY!" The three children cried and whimpered after I had yelled. Something in my heart melted a bit and I frown, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." "Then 'ill you wead to us, Sandi Cwause" "I'm NO-" I pause then, smiled like the man in the book store had, my soul felt lighter, "Yes" The three crowd around me and I begin to read this enchanting story, "Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was sturring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,  
  
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would soon be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads" From the book store both my voice and the shopkeeper's voice could be heard as I read the story carefully, he said the same words when I did and smiled wholesomely as he slung a brown bag over his shoulder and straightened a red hat: "He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,  
  
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,  
  
And laying his finger aside of his nose,  
  
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;  
  
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,  
  
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.  
  
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,  
  
" 'Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!' " 


End file.
